


Date Night

by generalasshattery



Category: Mortal Kombat (Video Games), Mortal Kombat - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gentle Dom, Light BDSM, Light Humiliation, Post Burns Kabal, Sexless sex, Toys, male dom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-18
Updated: 2019-12-18
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:21:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21841144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/generalasshattery/pseuds/generalasshattery
Summary: Even for as long as you'd been crushing on the reformed bad boy, it was hard to picture a better first date.
Relationships: Kabal/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 33





	Date Night

It was by far the best date you’d ever had, and to think you’d almost given up assuming he was interested at all. You and Kabal had been flirting back and forth with each other for sometime, it had started so casually before it was in every conversation you too had. In hindsight, it felt like he’d been testing the waters with you, making sure you were the sort that just liked to flirt regardless and that you actually enjoyed him. Looking back on it, you could imagine how hard it must be for him with the scars and respirator. It’s not that you hadn’t noticed either, of course you had. They just hadn’t bothered you, and he was so charming and effortless in talking with you that he had you hooked almost immediately.

In fact you hadn’t asked him out, though you desperately wanted to, for similar reasons. He was so impressive, so strong, so witty, and just so perfect in that reformed bad boy way that he felt so far out of your nerdy little league. You’d managed to be cool when he asked you though, even though you’d wanted to shout excitedly. Instead you waited till he was gone and contacted literally everyone to talk about it. You even mentioned it to your gaming buddies while playing online everyday until the date. They were supportive, but not thrilled with your lack of focus on that challenging map.

He could’ve done nothing and you’d have been happy, you could’ve gone to a cheap restaurant and chilled and it would’ve been perfect. Of course he didn’t do that. Instead he took you to the best arcade in town with a huge bag of quarters just for you. You weren’t sure how long the two of you shot at zombies, raced on plastic motorcycles, or violently beat each other. He was a total button masher, he shouldn’t have been able to win, those were cheap tactics especially since he was so damn fast. Of course you didn’t mind it, that little burst of excitement that came from trying to get your combos out before he accidentally landed one of his own was the sort of fun you played for in the first place. You’d chatted, laughed, teased each other, and smacked talked nonstop. It might have been the first date you ever had without a moment of awkward silence, without that grasping attempt of questions to find something of mutual interest to discussed.

You’d retired to the sports bar next door for some fuel when the quarters finally ran out. He’d taken the seat on the booth next to you, to watch the TVs with you of course. Though the way he laid his hand on the back of the seat right behind you made your heart flutter a bit, and let you pretend maybe he just wanted to be closer. You had a beer and some messy food, he didn’t order for himself though. It almost made you want to cancel the order, but you instinctively knew that would disappoint him. He wanted to make you happy, that much was abundantly clear. So you ate your food, babbling about nonsense while he watched you and listened looking happy enough to do so. You were licking your fingers clean of the barbecue sauce (like the proper heathen you were) when the first moment of silence happened. There was a look in his eye that made you think he was building the nerve to ask you something.

“So, what do you think? Head back to my place?” He said it so casually that you initially brushed off your assumption he’d been worried about something. Of course you wanted to keep hanging out with him, he was amazing.

“Oh! Great idea! We can swing by my apartment and grab that game so I can show you how to unlock that level!” You beamed at him, completely oblivious to the smudge of sauce on your cheek from your most over enthusiastic bite.

“That’s a fantastic idea,” he said, but sounded a little concerned, and you felt like you were missing something that should’ve been incredibly obvious to you. He took in a deep breath, something more audible and mechanical sounding because of the respirator. It was a sound you were slowly finding pleasant.

“Or maybe, we could do something a little more… adult,” he said and stared at you for a reaction. That desire to shout when he asked you out in the first place returned. You were an adult though, you didn’t run around shouting every time something good happened. This was very good. He was so very attractive, and you’d been fantasizing about him for months now.

“Ooooohhhh,” you said trying to coyly play it off, but only managing to look more like a dork, “adult things… like sex.” His eyes crinkled and you knew he was smiling at you. He picked up the napkin from the table and ran it over your cheek and you realized you must have looked a proper fool. Your face reddened a bit, as you waited for his confirmation, lest he decide now to change his mind.

“That was what I had in mind,” he said the amusement so clear in his voice. The excitement overcame you and your hands shot up in the air like someone celebrating a score. You sort of were, it just hadn’t happened yet.

“Yes please!” You said too loudly, knowing the shameless glee was written all over your face. His hand reached up and tussled the top of your hair before his arm looped around your shoulder to tug you close to him.

“Oh, I’m keeping you.”

\---------------

“You made me nervous,” he admitted with his hand on your back, guiding you gently into his home. He didn’t really sound nervous though, in fact he seemed much more confident than he had at the bar. As soon as you’d expressed your “enthusiasm” for spending some adult time with him, something changed. It went beyond a sense of confidence, like you’d supplied him with a little more control (albeit unintentionally) than he previously had. You couldn’t quite place what sort of control that was, but you just knew he was in charge. His jokes on the way over were more forward, and he didn’t watch you carefully for your response to anything filthy the way he usually did. He was confident, but not arrogant, bold but not crass, and only getting more charming the longer you were with him.

You wondered if this was who he was before the burns. Unimpeded and unconcerned about rejection. A little more wicked and wild, but not in a cruel way. In a way that promised he was going to deliver on a good time, a way that made it all the more appealing to be near him. It made you nervous. If he’d felt out of your league before that, the return to form he was experiencing only pushed him further out of your playing field. Not that he wasn’t making it abundantly clear at every chance he had that he was very fucking much into you. The looks, the touching, even his tone he used.

“Nervous?” You asked with the confusion written on your face. It wasn’t as though you were a particularly intimidating person to be on a date with, and there was absolutely no way you were going to pass up a chance with him. He closed the door behind you, his other hand still on your back. You loved that touch, in that spot in that spot in the small of it that spoke to a subtle intimacy. His fingers splayed, making the fabric of your dress rub lightly across your skin. You’d wanted him so bad for so long, even this little touch was enough to make you feel something.

“Strangely, I don’t think I’m as fuckable as I used to be,” he said, sounding a bit like he was admitting a bad habit. It was casual admission, like he had realized how silly it sounded. It did sound silly to you. You were wrecking your underwear with his hand on your back, it was hard to imagine being more attracted to someone at this point. You must have made a face, because he let out a sharp laugh when he glanced at your face.

“Oh you disagree with me,” he said making it clear he wanted you to supply some information. His hand left you and you could’ve pouted, even though it was only to help you get your jacket off.

“You know, to be honest, I think about your fuckability a lot,” you replied, turning to face him completely when he had the jacket off you. He was still holding it when your eyes met, and there was something positively impish in the way he looked at you. It made your heart race.

“Do you?” He asked, and even though his mask hid his mouth, his smirk was so big you could see it in his eyes. Turning he put his hand back in that lovely spot to guide you into his living room where he tossed your jacket on the back of a chair.

“I mean yeah,” you said with a half laugh, “gotta think about something in the shower, am I right?” He stopped, and so did you, and for a blissful moment you hadn’t really caught what had just popped out of your mouth. Waves of realization, crashed over you like several consecutive slaps in the face when it hit you that you just admitted to thinking about him while touching yourself. Your eyes went wider than they ever had and it felt very much like there was no longer enough air in the entire world.

“Oh noooooooo,” you said, feeling as if the world was moving in some horrible slow motion, “I didn’t mean-“ With a quick tug against your back he cut you off and connected your bodies. It was a half hug, his strong arm looped around your back to hold you against him, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy that look on your face.

“Oh yes you did,” he said in a knowing, but playful tone. Your hands, in an act of futility, tried to cover the obvious shame on your face by clasping your cheeks. His free hand took one of yours away so he could see just how hard you were blushing. His brows softened, just a bit, something you mistook for empathy.

“Can we forget I just said that?” You asked sounding just so hopeful. What he was actually expressing, but you couldn’t tell from the mask, was affection, something that under normal circumstances would have been such a delight to earn from him, but for now it meant he was enjoying your predicament.

“Absolutely not,” he said, half laughing and he let your hand go. He pulled down his mask just long enough to kiss you on the forehead. It was the first time you managed to catch a glimpse of his smile, quick though it was. It was amazing how that small action made you feel so much better, still embarrassed but nonetheless adored. It made your stomach do a little flip, but his mask was back in place and he quickly let you go.

“Sit on the couch for me, Baby, I need to grab something,” he said, gently patting the back of your head before leaving the room. You rubbed that hand over your cheek like you could make the blush disperse, it didn’t, but it made you feel like you were doing something about it. There was anxiety growing in the pit of your stomach, knowing that things were going to become physical soon. The nervous fear of being unsatisfactory almost made you want to run away before anything got started. Almost. Even your nerves being what they were couldn’t keep you from this opportunity. Besides, the ship had sailed on you embarrassing yourself in front of him.

So you did as he asked, or rather told, and sat on the couch. Even though he wasn’t gone for more than a few sparse moments, that awkward eternity had you fidgeting with the hem of your dress. Any blush you might have willed away returned in full force when he came back to the room and you saw something all too familiar in his hand: a wand style vibrator. It suddenly seemed like it wasn’t going to matter all that much how talented of a lover you were.

“Ready to play?” He asked, and you could see the excitement in his posture. He had plans for you, and that had you on the edge of your seat, literally. You scooted up to get closer to him as he approached you. Your whole body wiggled when you nodded your head enthusiastically, and his hand ran gently over your hair.

“Good, because I’m curious what you’re picturing when you think about me,” he said as he leaned down close to you. His hands were under the skirt of your dress while you were too busy looking into his eyes. His fingers hooked into your underwear and you were all too happy to lift your hips so he could wiggle them off you. Once he had them tossed to the floor, he sat beside you, twisting on the couch so he could face you. He motioned for you to do the same, and grabbed your leg as you did.

“Lay back for me,” he said in a gentle tone that was no less commanding. He used his hand to help guide you into position, so that he had you half laying against the arm rest, and your legs spread, feet rested against his thigh. He reached up and pushed your dress high enough to have you completely exposed, a view he definitely enjoyed.

“That is the cutest pussy I’ve ever seen,” he said it in an exhale, his thumb brushed over your labia, a light touch of approval before he used the digit to spread your flesh to give him the right access. Your face flushed even darker, that was certainly a compliment you’d never heard before, but damn was it amazing hearing him say it. Your hand covered your mouth to suppress a gasp when he pressed the head of the wand against your sensitive nub directly. Even before it was on the anticipation alone had you drenched with excitement.

Then with a single click you started to lose some control. It was the lowest setting but how eager he made you had you feeling more sensitive than you ever had. That low vibration made you clutch at your dress with your spare hand, as the hand on your mouth stifled a whimpering moan. It made your sex feel beyond warm, it made your hips tilt into to sensation. For a few moments he seemed content to watch you react, but that wouldn’t last.

“Tell me what you picture me doing when you’re fucking yourself,” he commanded, his voice sounding more raspy than you’d heard it before. That didn’t do anything to help you regain enough control. You had to force your hand down from your mouth to answer, though the shame of it made that so hard to do. Only his enthusiastic response to you made you bold enough.

“Usual stuff, touching, holding, kissing, fucking,” you said and your voice cracked from pleasure half way through. He let out a low laugh when you did, and he gently moved that pressure up and down just enough that you couldn’t stop your hips from thrusting against it. Your breathing hitched up and you whined in protest at him.

“That’s not very descriptive,” he said, clearly chastising you, “how do I touch you? Am I gentle or rough?” He kept it moving up and down, up and down it made it feel like a gentle thrust of pure pleasure right on your clit. You were having trouble focusing, but you managed to stutter out an answer to his question.

“It depends, sometimes it’s really soft and sweet.” You wetted your lips, your tongue almost sloppily hanging out of your mouth for just a second as you panted for him.

“And other times?” He asked, all those images of your fertile imagination had no problem making their way into your head. All the ways you’d pictured him and you together, and you’d never considered anything like this being a possibility. You’d severely underestimated, even in your fantasies, the impact his presence and his attention could have on you.

“Other times it’s really rough,” you said, though it was rushed out between your mewling moans. You had every word punctuated with a gasping breath. You needed him, you needed him badly, but the idea of letting this moment pass kept you from rushing him. Besides, you knew, though you didn’t know how, that he was going to give you what you needed.

“Am I rough or are you rough?” He had shifted his body, your feet now on the couch so he could start moving above your body. It did nothing to distract his hand from those gentle up and down motions, in fact he started doing that just a little bit faster. You gasped when he did it, now looming over you. His arm brushed against your shoulder when he supported himself on the armchair to stay above you. It inspired the most intense shiver you’d ever felt.

“You are,” you finally managed to get the words out. His hand left the armrest just long enough to lower his mask so he could start kissing and nibbling on your neck.

“Am I always in charge or do we take turns?” His warm wet tongue was all over your neck, and you couldn’t keep yourself from turning your head to give him the best access. He paused briefly to take another breath from his respirator before he continued.

“You are,” you repeated, unable to really offer him more. Your leg was shaking, and it kicked out unable to really handle the unending pleasure he supplied. He pulled away so that he could look you in the eyes, and for the first time you could really see his whole face, his expression. He had nothing but lust and want for you there, and it made you cry out loudly. He silenced you with a kiss so demanding it made your head spin.

“You want to be mine, baby? You want to be my princess?” He asked after taking another breath from the mask. The question hit you almost as hard as that ceaseless vibration.

“Yes,” you shouted at him because you could currently think of nothing in your life you’d ever wanted more. You wanted him, you wanted to be his, and you wanted him to look at you that way forever. It was a thrill all it’s own, one that made you ache from pure, endless want. For so long he’d felt so unattainable, and now he had you and you were realizing just how badly you’d been needing him this whole time.

“You know how I’m actually going to fuck you?” He asked, his voice so teasing like he was about to drop a secret on you. You lifted your head a little, your brows knitted from the sensation and the question.

“No,” you said, not that you had the ability to really think about much at this moment any longer anyway. It didn’t really matter though, right now you’d have let him do just about anything.

“However you want, Princess,” he said and then you heard that click as he shifted the wand to a higher setting and any last lingering pretense of control vanished. The building pressure demanding relief was taking over your ability to do anything at all. You felt a panic, you couldn’t answer him, you couldn’t think with the intense pleasure running through your body.

“Wait-“ you said, unable to articulate why you were upset by this. Wanting so badly to explain you wanted to be able to please him, to respond to him but you simply couldn’t any longer.

“No, baby, you can handle this,” he said reassuringly, almost a little patronizingly. That had your whole body trembling. The humiliation that had almost made you want to flee before was now making this moment so much more exhilarating.

“I can’t,” you started whimpering at him but cut yourself off with a cry. You were rubbing yourself against the wand, knowing it was pushing you closer to your peak but unable to do anything to stop yourself.

“You can’t what?” He asked in that same tone of voice. You were too close, if he didn’t ease up you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.

“I’m going to cum, I can’t-“ again you couldn’t finish your thoughts you were too flustered, too far gone, and too much of a mess to make you remotely useful, even to yourself. He kissed you again, even more aggressively, but he didn’t keep you in torment for long.

“Then cum for me, baby,” he said when he pulled away. And you did. Like you never had before, you did. You had to bite on your hand to keep yourself from screaming in his ear, every inch of your body feeling the shock waves from the seemingly endless pleasure. You tugged so hard on your dress you even heard a rip. Then another click, and finally you had some relief when it shut off. It was like you could actually breath at long last. Every inch of you went limp below him, and you turned immediately into a useless lump trying to catch your breath, unable to really talk yet. Your body felt so sensitive that when he started lightly stroking your arm it made you jerk before settling.

“You liked that?” He asked but from his tone it was clear he knew the answer, still you nodded limply at the question. Of course you liked that, but you felt a little tug in your chest, a need to be as good to him as he was to you.

“Good,” he said and gave you a kiss on your cheek, and then fixed his mask back on his face. For several moments he stayed there, over you, lightly touching and caressing. Such a wonderful gentle way of helping you come down from that intense high. You were about to open your mouth and ask how you could return the favor, but then you heard the click and you knew he wasn’t actually done yet.


End file.
